Karen Whiddon - A Secret Colton Baby

“I usually make them biscuits and gravy, too.” She sounded apologetic again.

“They’ll just have to make do,” he said, shaking his head. “Extraordinary circumstances.”

Nodding, she crossed to the exterior door and pulled the bell cord, sending the brass bell that hung outside chiming.

Almost immediately after, Theo’s hands began filing into the kitchen. A few of them appeared surprised to see their boss there, but once they spotted the food set out on the long wooden table in the adjoining room, they shrugged, grabbed a plate and dug in. If they wondered why the food was so late in coming, no one said anything.

Theo had saved back some of the eggs, bacon and bread and made Ellie and himself a plate. He indicated one of the chairs at the smaller kitchen table and slid her breakfast over to her.

She climbed up, carefully holding Amelia, and once settled, eyed the plate, making no move to pick up a fork.

With a flush of embarrassment, he realized she didn’t know how to eat while holding the baby.

“Here. Put her in the bassinette while you eat.”

“No.” She angled the baby away from him, her chin up, her blue eyes flashing. “You eat first, and when you’re finished, you can hold her and I’ll have my turn.”

For a second, he froze, dumbfounded at the idea of holding such a miniscule little girl in front of everyone. He could do this, he told himself. Surely a man unafraid to climb on the backs of wildest horses wouldn’t be undone by an infant. Plus, he’d already held her the night before, though he’d acted solely on instinct.

“Sure,” he said, trying for easily.

Ellie rewarded him with a smile that sent his pulse racing. Stunned, he wondered if she knew how adorable she looked. Since she seemed determined, he didn’t argue, even though he still felt seriously uncomfortable holding an infant. Instead he started shoveling the food into his mouth, barely pausing for air.

Once he’d cleared his plate, he drained his glass of juice, took a quick gulp of coffee and then held out his arms for the baby, hoping he appeared nonchalant. “Your turn.”

One corner of her mouth quirked as she stared at him. “Even they—” indicating the men at the table behind them, who were all intently chowing down “—don’t eat that fast.”

“I was hungry,” he replied, grinning. “Now hand me that baby and eat your food before it gets cold.”

Shaking her head, she handed Amelia over, transferring her gently. “Make sure you support her head.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Once he had her, he gazed down into her tiny sleeping face. She smelled good, like baby powder and milk, and appeared healthy, at least to him. Though fragile. Which made him sort of afraid to move.

“That reminds me,” he told Ellie. “There are more people sick with whatever Mimi had. We need to get Amelia checked out.”

Fork in midair, Ellie froze. “I didn’t think of that.” Expression dismayed, she put down her fork. “I don’t want her going to the clinic if there are other sick people there. You said Mimi’s ex is a doctor. Do you think he’d be willing to check her out here?”

Pleased her concern was for the baby rather than herself, he nodded. “I’ll bring that up when I talk to him today. If not, my sister is a nurse and can do it.”

He took a deep breath, hating what he had to say next, but knowing it was necessary. “Listen, Ellie, don’t go getting too attached. There’s a possibility Amelia might not be here too long.”

Her eyes widened. Her voice rose. “What do you mean? You can’t be considering giving up your own flesh and blood.”

The men at the other table stopped talking and turned to stare at them from the other room. Theo grimaced. “There’s a very real possibility she’s not mine,” he said gently. “Mimi was... Well, let’s say she wasn’t exclusive.”

Her downcast look told him she didn’t like what she was hearing. “She has your eyes,” she said.

“Yes, but green eyes aren’t proof of anything.”

“I understand,” she replied, clearly lying. “Let me have Amelia back, please.”

“You haven’t eaten yet.”

Taking the baby from him, she nodded. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

No one spoke as she marched out of the room.

Once she was gone, Theo’s hands all looked at him. Even from the other room, he could feel their disapproval.

He shrugged. “Come on, guys.” Giving their empty plates a look, he pointed toward the door. “Time to get back to work.”

Though not a single man argued with him, he could tell from a few of their expressions—belligerent, questioning and yes, disappointed—that they wanted to. He hated that they thought he was acting like a jerk—honestly, he wasn’t. But this was his life, and it wasn’t up for debate.

If baby Amelia belonged to him, Theo would move heaven and earth to ensure that she wanted for nothing. However, if Lucas Rand was actually her father, then Amelia needed to be with her daddy. He didn’t need to explain that to anyone.

Chapter 2

The drive into town felt as if it took longer than usual. He figured he’d pick up the diapers and formula after he had a word with Dr. Rand.

Dead River looked like a ghost town. Probably because it was Sunday, and most folks were either at church or home with their families. Main Street, usually pretty busy about this time of day while the stores were open, had tons of empty parking spots and only a few people on the sidewalks. But when he turned the corner onto Third and spotted the clinic’s overflowing parking lot, he couldn’t believe it. Usually, the clinic was closed on Sundays, except for emergencies.

Gemma hadn’t been exaggerating. He ended up parking in the street.

As he approached the glass front door of the one-story, white cinder block building, he nearly stopped short as he saw the mass of people milling around in the waiting area. Surely not all of these people had come down with the virus.

Pushing inside, he stopped, checking everything out. No one looked feverish, or was coughing, sneezing or exhibiting any other flu-like symptoms. As far as he could tell, none of these people actually appeared sick.

His suspicion was confirmed when Cathleen Walker, who worked the intake desk, grabbed his arm. As usual, her clothes looked a bit rumpled, as though she hadn’t had time to press them. “Theo, are you okay?”

He nodded. “What’s up with them?”

“They want a shot.” She grimaced, slipping one foot out of the high heels she continually wore to work and stretching it, before sliding it back into her shoe. “Not a flu shot either—most everybody has already had that. I don’t know why, but someone heard we had received an inoculation against whatever killed Mimi Rand and got the others sick.”

“And you don’t even know what it was, do you?”

“No. But none of these people will leave.” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “More and more keep showing up. I’ve told them, Dr. Moore has told them and even Dr. Granger.”

“What about Dr. Rand?”

Her expression changed, softening. “He’s in the back, writing up a report on the latest people to fall ill. The poor man is grief-stricken over losing Mimi. He acts like it’s his fault he couldn’t save her.”

“I need to talk to him.” Again he glanced at the packed waiting room. “People,” he said, raising his voice. “If you’re sick, please raise your hand.”

Not one hand went up. Exactly as he’d suspected. “Everyone else, go on home. You don’t want to risk being exposed to whatever this virus is.” He glanced around, picking out individuals among the crowd and meeting their eyes. “Do you understand what I’m saying? If you’re healthy, not only are you using resources that could better be directed toward helping those that are sick, but just being here puts you in very serious danger of becoming infected.”